Don't Want To Lock Me Up Inside
by bonniesansclyde
Summary: Jim is about to go on a date with Molly and decides the day of not to take his pill. Inspired by Lithium- Evanescence


Jim stared at the pills in his hand. He had been taking them for years now, but for some reason he didn't feel like taking them today. He felt great. He hadn't had an outbreak in months. Maybe he could do this. And besides, he had a date tonight. If you could call using some poor girl as a pawn to get closer to his real goal a date. So he didn't. He put the pills back into the bottle and ran his hands over his suits.

"Which one. Which one." He mumbled to himself, giggling when he found his favorite suit and matched it with his skull neck tie. He carefully hung it up on the hook on the other side of his door, then made his way to the shower.

As he let the warm spray wash over him, he reveled in the fact that he had actually done it. He had overcome the sheer force that drew him to his dosage and finally felt free of his mood regulators. "Lithium has weird side effects anyway," he told himself, more to keep the small part of him that was panicking down than to rationalize it to anyone.

He stepped into the now steamed bathroom and looked himself over in the mirror. Grinning to himself he dried off, making sure to get all of him in order that he not get his suit wet, he thought about his nights plans. He was taking Molly to the opera. Cheesy, yes, but effective. No girl could stand the opera. Especially since he had bought her an extravagant dress just for the occasion No, tonight was about wooing Molly Hooper, and then taking her back to his flat for a little after-opera dessert.

He carefully dressed in his suit, straightening his tie in the mirror and slicking his hair to the side in his usual fashion. It didn't matter that he looked more like Moriarty, Consulting Criminal, than Jim from IT. All that mattered was that Molly Hooper would be in his bed. And besides she didn't know who he really was. She would think that he was dressing up for her. Which he kind of was.

Jim did one more once over before heading out for the day. He had a government to crumble before lunch and he had to get started. He didn't want to be late for his date after all.

He pulled up to the Hospital a little later than he had planned. Something about his whole day made him regret his decision from earlier. He didn't need it, but it felt as if he was losing himself as the day progressed. It started when his meeting with the Prime Minister of Italy didn't work out the way he wanted, ending in, regrettably, a dead end and another angle to spend the next month planning.

Jim took a deep breath and opened the door for Molly when she arrived. "You know, I don't know why you insist I pick you up at the hospital," he said once the limo started moving. "I could pick you up at home. I'm not some creeper." He rested his hand on Molly's thigh.

"Thank you, Jim, but I don't... I've had bad experiences with men coming to my home." She said shyly, looking down at her lap. "That's why we're going slow."

"Right," he mumbled to himself before completing the sentence louder. "You don't need to do anything you're not comfortable with", giving her his best you-can-trust-me smile. She visibly relaxed at this and leaned into him.

"So the opera, huh? Sounds exciting," She looked down again and added, "I've never been."

"Well you're going to love it, Molly dear. It's my favorite one." Jim turned his gaze back to the city passing outside, moving his hand on her thigh in what anyone would think was unconscious. He thought of the best way to convince her to come back with him. He could fake an injury and need her help to get into his flat. No, no. That wouldn't do. He had to woo her, make her come with him willingly. No tricks.

The more he thought about it, he actually wanted to spend time with her. She was sweet, and reminded him of a simpler time when he had cared for people. It was strange going back there. Like he wasn't Moriarty anymore. Just plain old Jim for IT.

After the opera, Jim invited Molly back to his flat. A little bit reluctantly, Molly accepted, but only for coffee and then she would be leaving. As they entered the flat, he helped her with her coat and went to the kitchen. Instead of coffee, he pulled out a bottle of champagne, raising his eyebrow slightly, "Can I tempt you?" He cooed as he got the glasses.

He poured them both a glass, wandering back over to where she was sitting on the couch. "Thank you, Jim," she mumbled taking a small sip of the champagne. Jim scooted closer to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"So, Molly..." he began, hoping that he wouldn't get rejected. He had too many for one day, well, he had one, but that was one too many for the Consulting Criminal, especially one who was off of his medication. He continued, "How slow is slow?"

Molly tensed next to him. "I... I'm uncomfortable with this. I'm sorry," She looked away from him, attempting to get a little distance between them.

"So you don't want to right now, I understand. Tomorrow then. You can sleep here, and we'll do it then." He grinned slightly and watched her.

"No, Jim. Just no," she moved to get up. "I should go. It was fun. I'll call you."

Jim sunk into the couch. Two in one day? That was a new record for him and it hurt just to think about it. "Just... Come to bed with me. Don't make me sleep alone. That's all I've ever been," he looked up at her and he didn't have to fake the hurt on his face. "Alone, Molly. No one. I have no one." He held his head in his hands and took a deep breath. Fuck, he should have taken his pills, he was a mess.

He took a deep breath and sighed, standing up. "It's fine," he mumbled, trying not to look at Molly. He didn't need pity. He never needed pity. "Just go home." He had said this louder and as he was on his way back to his room. This was too much, he couldn't handle it. He thought he could, but he couldn't. And the worst part was, he would have to wait until the next day to take another dose.

He changed into his pajamas and crawled into the bed, curling up into a ball in the middle. He was almost asleep before he heard a slight knock and felt the bed depress next him. "What do you want?" he mumbled quietly into his pillow, not even turning to face Molly.

"Room for one more?" she whispered and at that Jim started. He turned to look at her, and she had stripped down to just her slip, and had even let her hair down. "Scoot over."

He complied, and Molly slid into the bed next to him, wrapping her arms around his slender frame.

"You don't have to be, you know," she said after a while of silence. "Alone, I mean. You don't have to be alone."

A couple minutes later and Jim had fallen asleep, finally relaxed, to the feeling of a hand running through his hair.


End file.
